


How Did His Life Come to This?

by Thisisarealtagwhy



Series: 20 Years At Sea [11]
Category: One Piece
Genre: 20 Years at Sea, Angst, Gen, Non-Explicit Torture, Pre-Canon Speculation, Thatch has a potty-mouth, day 11: backstory, except it's brief and not important to plot, im not sure whether it fits into the warnings so, mentions of torture, or how Thatch joined the Whitebeard pirates, written for that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 01:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11635887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thisisarealtagwhy/pseuds/Thisisarealtagwhy
Summary: Whitebeard hums, and extends his hand, “why don’t you join my crew Thatch, sail with me below the stars and into battle, and I will call you my son.”He spluttered, when he was captured and then fighting the first mate of the Whitebeard Pirates, he hadn’t expected anything like this,ever. “Um-”





	How Did His Life Come to This?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 11 of 20 Years at Sea: Backstory
> 
> yeah, this just came to me, yeah, ive missed two days but im writing them, to explain my jumbled tags.
> 
> There is non-explicit mentions of rape - however it can be taken two ways - and torture, I warn you now so that nobody becomes upset, I do hope that nothing I write upsets you. I'm just not sure whether these brief mentions account to the warnings which is why I have chosen not to add any warnings to this.
> 
> On another note, this is all speculation, i did have more plot planned out so ill probs write another one-shot with it so *shrugs* enjoy?

Thatch was not having a very fantastic day if you asked him this morning.

If anything, today was the worst day of his life.

Firstly, he had left his hidey hole on Sabaody to check the most recent bounties – he only hunted sometimes, when it was _absolutely_ necessary.

He didn’t like to deprive people of their dreams but if he couldn’t feed himself then…

He had gone to work at the little restaurant as per usual, seeing as working there helped assuage some of his financial issues. And then, the little restaurant was attacked by some of the local pirates, and one of them had a pretty freaky devil fruit, and not to mention that the asshole knew how to look after himself.

Then, when the rest of the culinary masters attempted to fight back despite Thatch’s pleads for them to just _get the fuck out of there,_ they were utterly annihilated.

Which had led to a third being killed in the battle, sliced and diced, shot repeatedly, beaten, the pirates didn’t leave much to the imagination. But what’s worse is that they strung up some of the chefs in front of a captive (when he says captive, he means _captive_ ) audience.

And whoever was left were carted off onto what Thatch presumed was their base of operations, the fact that these ‘pirates’ called themselves hardened sea-farers, which was pretty bullshit in his opinion.

Attacking only those who could not defend themselves and then make a living off of them, because that’s what was going to happen, he was probably going to either become their slave or be sold off to another human dealer and worse, sold to a Tenryuubito.

Not that they’d be bothered with a scarred chef, he bet they had plenty of professionals in the ‘holy land of Mariejois’.

He spat up a thick wad of blood, wincing, that probably wasn’t too healthy. Taking a cursory glance at the crude shackles hanging him to the stone wall of the filthy cell, he wondered how he would be getting out of this situation.

He wanted to at least save the other chefs, they’d shown kindness to him, he hunted bounties near them and cashed them in and worked double as a chef for them.

Whatever, he _will_ get them out of this situation.

Cheeseface – he was named Cheeseface because of the nature of his mouldy akuma no mi – appeared between the bars of the 2 by 2 cell and sneered inwards at him, “Ah, m’lad, should ‘a heard how lou’ the lass screamed.”

“Leave them alone.” It was a worn-out sentence but he wouldn’t stop until they heeded his wish. “Please.”

“Nah, I reckon we gunna leave ya ‘til las’ so ya can hear all o’ their pretty lil’ screams.” He smiles again, a chessboard smile. “Ya chef’s need ta learn how ta holdja pears.” He cackled, delighted at the absolute hatred in Thatch’s eyes.

“Leave them alone!” He shouted again, kicking at the bars.

Cheeseface growled, grin disappearing. “Shut ya trap, should be glad we ain’t doin’ worse to ‘em. ‘sides, we’re movin’ ‘bout an hour, so. Cap’n’s gunna take on Whitebeard.”

His eyes bulged out of his head at the pure stupidity of the pirates. “The strongest man in the world? You’re going to take him on? You idiot! You’ll get us all killed!”

This time Cheeseface grabbed his leg and to Thatch’s horror a green mould began to creep up his leg. “Now you ain’t gunna last long, pity but it’ll be fun ta see ya rottin’ corpse when we’re the stronges’ crew.”

Thatch hung there in his chains, pompadour lying limp, why had it come to this?

Sighing he tried to haul himself up, wary of the mould on his leg, some were quite poisonous when inhaled and he wasn’t entirely sure which strain it was, so for the meantime he tried to keep his dignity even as he stripped off the pants to his ankles, hoping that leaving them there, pooling in between in his shoes would ensure that the mould would not harm him.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t had the mind to steal anything from his captives otherwise he would have been out of here much quicker.

Thatch wasn’t sure because there weren’t any windows but, an hour later, another pirate, this time with a leather mask wrapped around his eyes came around, keys jangling within his kimono. “Get up.” He said gruffly, unlocking the cell, taking a closer look he said. “Get your pants on.”

He looked forlornly at the pants but shrugged as he skilfully pulled them up with his feet and legs, trying his best to ignore the mould that was steadily creeping towards his upper body. Thatch complied again, lest the pirate think he not need his arms despite the protests from aforementioned limbs at the angle he was bending them.

“Try anything and I’ll run you through, got it?” He said, shifting a little so his katana was visible.

“Got it.”

Paying attention to what the man was holding, he noticed a pirate flag brooch on the crease of his kimono.

Rookie mistake, now he just had to keep the man distracted, Thatch allowed himself to be chained to the man, cuffs digging painfully into his skin.

“So, your boss is going to challenge _the_ Whitebeard huh?” He said conversationally.

The pirate didn’t respond. “Well, personally I think he has a lot of guts, to think that such a weak captain would believe he had a _smidgen_ of a chance against the _Strongest Man Alive._ ”

His words rung through the stone hallway and the pirate stopped them both, fury palpable, he withdrew the gleaming katana from its sheath, placing it warningly against his back, but Thatch wasn’t stupid and he knew that it was preferable if he was alive right now.

“You lot must be really fucking dumb to think you can face him.”

Mask growled again and punched him square in the jaw, ignoring the ringing in his ears and the black spots dancing along his vision he did his part in egging Mask on by insulting the captain once more, this time when the pirate got in close enough, Thatch kicked him right where he-shall-not-name.

As Mask fell forward Thatch kneed his face, hearing a satisfying crunch and the warm feeling of blood pour through his mouldy pants.

He left Mask on the ground after carefully picking his locks, “Hmm.” Holding the unlocked chains in his hand he smirked and tied the man carefully up.

“Oi! Marron, hurry up!” Making a split decision that Thatch would come to love and hate later on in life, he quickly donned Mask’s clothing and dressed the other man, puffing the brown hair to somewhat resemble a pompadour he almost cried as he slashed his own.

“I’m coming!” He said gruffly, trying to sound annoyed.

He dragged the unconscious Mask behind him, despite how shitty the man actually was, he had quite good taste in clothing, he means, even the mask and gloves had a fur lining.

“What took so long?” Cheeseface asks and he growls out as menacingly as he can.

Thatch gazes up at the ship in mild disgust, it was the size of a gallion, floating in the breeze their jolly roger - a skull and crossbones being split by a double-edged axe.

“Stupid bastard thought he could fight.” Voice guttural it clearly fools the dumbass for Cheesface seemed to accept the explanation and gestured to one of the cages above the stone base of operations on the ship for him to place his ‘prisoner’.

Throwing in the man extra roughly to ensure that he wouldn’t be waking up on their journey, Thatch retreated into the bowels of the ship, he didn’t want to deal with the likes of these monkeys.

“How exactly am I going to get out of this one?” It was the million-dollar question.

After shifting through the rooms and coming across several unpleasant sights – heads, headless bodies, _what kind of fluid is that?_ Couples going at it, torture chambers, he’d seen it all.

Finally he stumbled across what he assumed was Mask’s room and sighed with relief, inside were more masks.

And books, lots of them.

But photos too, lining the walls of the small room. He looked like he owned a, bandicoot?

Dumbass.

Flopping onto the bed without bothering to change Thatch slept despite being in the midst of enemy territory, he figured he was safe for now.

***

He definitely was not safe, judging by the way the ship had come alive in his absence, like tiny ants they searched the decks multiple times and the quarters, oh, and mask was outside of the cage, attended to by a doctor.

Oh well, he was relatively safe up in the crows nest, these pirates were pretty dull. He had somehow managed to slip past their defences and scale the crow's nest without anybody noticing, all he really had to do was remove the mask and they all thought he was somebody else just looking for land.

He had to plan for when the ship did arrive to wherever Whitebeard supposedly was, he could just be on his merry way but he had a feeling that the strongest man alive would not allow any survivors.

So that left plan 2, behead the captain when he tried to attack Whitebeard and ask to be a part of his crew.

Crude, but probably effective, Thatch had a vague idea about the powerhouses in the crew from the numerous bounties.

Marco the phoenix was just one of those.

Or there was a third option, just wait the whole thing out and watch them fight it out from the safety of the crow’s nest.

He sighed again, this whole thing had just been a mess from day one.

"Land aho!" He shouted down the pole to the crew when he did sight the island on the horizon.

Hopefully they wouldn't actually request him to descend when they did arrive. It was sometime later when his legs were truly cramped and the air was cold that they came to a stop.

He shook out of his short slumber and peered out at the assembled pirates, their captain was a hulking fellow and Thatch snorted at the sight of the double-bladed axe.

The Whitebeard pirates were on shore, a massive bonfire illuminating their faces in a garish light. 

Without hesitation the slightest bit of hesitation, the crew jump out of the ship along ropes and ladders into the water, wading into shore.

But, as the stupid pirates were distracted he shimmied down the crow’s nest and stealthily slipped past the singular guard on the ship patrolling, he still had the keys from Mask and he was going to free the chefs.

Keys jangling more than he liked he wandered around the deck, pulling the guard into a sleeper hold and gently setting him down in the empty cage.

“Sedrid! Is that you?” One of the chefs asks through his split lips.

“Shh! We can’t let them know that I’m here.” He whispers, wincing at the use of his false name but, regardless, he holds up the keys for the chefs.

“Thank you, bless you.” The chef says, bringing his hands together as if he is praying for him.

As soon as the chefs were all free Thatch hunts for one of the little life-boats he noticed before up in the crow’s nest.

In a joint effort, they carefully drop three of the ships into the water and drop into them, they ensure that they’re still anchored to the shore.

“Okay, we’re still in paradise so I’d say that you can make it to Sabaody on these, here, you just have to follow this log-pose and you’ll make it back.” Thatch says, tossing it to the head chef.

“Paradise?” The chef looked confused at the terminology of the weathered ex-pirate.

“Yeah, you know of the second half of the grand line? It makes the first half look like paradise.” He explained quickly, ushering them into the life boats.

The chefs looked at him dumb-struck, but Thatch was done explaining, looking over to the pirates he noticed that they still hadn’t attacked Whitebeard yet, probably too cocky to do so yet.

He should have figured that the idiots believed that their captain would be the one because he was big.

He unties the lifeboats, severing them for life and tosses them out to see. He desperately hopes that they would all survive the journey. “Thanks for everything you did for me.”

They smiled collectively through their split lips, unhinged jaws and various other injuries sustained as a result of torture.

He felt another twinge of regret at the reduced numbers and the numerous injuries but he supposes it cannot be helped.

Thatch returned to the crow’s nest, he was here to ensure that they got a large enough head-start on the other pirates, hopefully the pirates would put up a  _bit_ of a fight up. 

Thatch could see that the Whitebeard pirates were in a party of full swing, the Strongest Man Alive was sitting on a throne (chair) and sipping the blood of his enemies – okay maybe that was melodramatic but sake was boring.

Bozo – because he looked like a boulder and was dumb – stepped forward.

Thatch silently watched, withdrawing his (well it was now) katana as the pirates eagerly crowded around the ‘surprised’ party of troops.

“Whitebeard! I’ve come for your head.” Bozo cajoled, his crew whooping around him in anticipation.

But Whitebeard only said. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something kid?”

Thatch wasn’t sure what was funnier, the blatant dismissal, the ‘kid’ part or maybe the growing anger on Bozo’s face.

Bozo swung his ‘mighty’ axe, but it wasn’t Whitebeard that intercepted the blade, no, Thatch recognised the world renowned ‘Flower Sword’ Vista.

“Sorry lad, but Pops is drinking right now, you’ll have to come back later if you want to challenge him.”

Bozo spluttered. “Do you know who I am?”

“No, and unfortunately I don’t care.” Vista retorted, gracefully swinging the axe away from him.

With another flick of the wrists, Bozo was sent flying backwards, landing on his arse causing Thatch to erupt in laughter.

“Idiot couldn’t even see what hit him.”

Finally, the pirates cried their battle cry and leapt forward, pistols and swords drawn, this entire process has been a mockery and they were clearly done playing games.

It was just a pity that they were completely and utterly slaughtered, destroyed by even the smallest of the Whitebeard pirates.

As far as Thatch knew, Bozo and Cheeseface were the only two that were decent at using haki, they could use armament but clearly hadn’t bothered to learn kenbunshoku.

Finally, Whitebeard stood, sighing and _oh my god_ he was so much taller and bigger and musclier then what Thatch had anticipated. Whitebeard _glares_ at the remaining men, and with a singular punch he brings down the entirety of the cockiness the pirates had.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit he’s screwed.

Any thoughts of trying to attack the already beaten pirates escapes his head and he sits down, legs shaking at the sight of power.

And then the Strongest Man raises his glare to the ship and finally withdraws the bisento laying at his side, with a swing of the blade the air seems to _crack_ around him and before Thatch can yell at himself, he’s jumping out of the crow’s nest and into the icy sea.

The ship falls apart like it was made of cardboard in the icy embrace of the sea.

“Oh shit, oh shit.” He murmurs repeatedly as he tries to stealthily sneak away, but where could he go? The village is further inland and now that Thatch is getting closer, he can tell that the village is being protected by the Whitebeard pirates, judging from the enormous flag flapping in the wind.

He’s obviously not as stealthy as he thinks he is because he feels rather than hears the phoenix swoop down to where he’s crawling.

“Having fun down there?” Marco the Phoenix asks dryly.

“Yes, quite, would you mind if I just crawled to the village?” He asks, despite already knowing the answer.

“Sorry kid.”

As soon as the Phoenix reaches for him, Thatch swings the katana wildly, cleaving straight through the blue-bell flamed wings.

To his dread, it simply grows back as if nothing had happened. “A+ for effort kid.”

Scowling Thatch turns the blade black under his willpower. “Just let me go and nobody needs to get hurt.”

The Phoenix grins, “So you know haki? That’ll make this a little more interesting.”

Birdbrain swings his clawed foot at Thatch and then it begins, parrying back and forth with his claws and beak, Marco flies upward, before swooping back down, Thatch rolls out of the way lest he becomes a pancake and slices Marco’s neck.

Marco allows the swing and to his utter horror, the sliced neck grows anew, destroying his theory that haki would be effective.

It only seems to piss him off.

Marco leaps, turning half-human as to withdraw his own short sword, slicing at the air where his pompadour once was.

Thatch returns the blow, hitting the sword, each lean into the blow, attempting to gain some leverage on the other.

“So, Marco,” Thatch begins conversationally, flipping backwards out of the hold and shooting forward like a rocket, “how did you become a hearty dog of the sea?”

The Phoenix, to his credit, replies as he slashes with three of his limbs, “Whitebeard picked me up after I escaped my captors.”

“Huh,” panting a little, Thatch kicks sand into his face and sweeps his now human feet out from under him, the Phoenix soars up again, circling him.

Divebombing him for the second time the Phoenix says, “Can I ask what your name is? It only seems appropriate since, I’m, fighting, you.”

Each word is punctuated with a slash from one of his limbs.

Leaping through the kicks he replies. “The name’s Thatch.”

“Nice name, kid.” The phoenix leaps into the inky sky for the third time of the fight.

Dropping down again, Thatch brings his katana back but as Marco thrusts his own blade outwards a loud voice rings towards their fight. “Are you two done?”

Thatch turns in dread to face the sight of the Strongest Man Alive staring at them both imposingly, the blow that he was expecting never comes and he turns, gobsmacked to see the phoenix returning to human form and sheathing the short blade.

“Good fight kid.” He’s 21 dammit.

“Guarara! You don’t seem to be part of that miserable crew.” He observes.

Still too stunned to run he replies in a daze, “My fellow chefs and I were captured-”

“We’ve been needing a head chef, haven’t we Pops?” Marco says, side-eyeing his captain.

“Mm.” Whitebeard hums, switching his bisento to the other hand he extends his free hand, “why don’t you join my crew Thatch, sail with me below the stars and into battle, and I will call you my son.”

He spluttered, when he was captured and then fighting the first mate of the Whitebeard Pirates, he hadn’t expected anything like this, _ever._ “Um-”

His indecision melts away at the soft look in the sea farer, it had been so long since he had seen such a look, it had been dulled away by the years on his own. “Yes, Pops.” The Pops was a second thought but judging by the look of joy in the mans crinkled eyes, it was the right thing to say.

Marco grins. “Welcome aboard, Thatch.”

The next few hours are a blur as he works through the numerous Whitebeard pirates who he will probably never remember the names of, ever. He meets the commanders who welcome him in open arms.

Then he’s thrust to the cooks who sigh in relief when he takes charge and directs them to their separate chores, don’t get him wrong, they were insanely good and were able to cook for the sheer amount of people on the ship, but, they were never really trained to be head chefs.

And he settles into life with the Whitebeard pirates because it is the family he never had. 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh yeah. 
> 
> Btw, for some reason i always think of Vista in the voice of Wesley from the Princess Bride... idk man, the voice just comes to me...
> 
> And;
> 
>  
> 
> __  
> **WARNING, THIS NOTE IS ABOUT A TORTURE DEVICE SO IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, SKIP IT**  
>   
> 
> the little “Ya chef’s need ta learn how ta holdja pears." is a reference to the 'pear of anguish' which is a torture device typically molded as a pear which further splits into four separate spoon-like segments, it is stuck in somebody's mouth (or vagina, or anus but typically it was used on liars and blasphemers, so the mouth) and slowly screwed open so that the spoons open up the mouth until the jaw is unhinged, and the victim eventually dies.


End file.
